Breathe
by sHlander
Summary: After 2*5-Cosima's treatment may work. Just fluff.


I can breathe again. Of course, I never actually stopped, but I mean the good kind—not the short, sick little breaths I've been having. I mean the kind where you walk outside on a chilly morning and inhale as deep as you can, hold it for a second, and then let it all out—no coughing, sputtering, nothing. Just breathing.

It's still too early to know if the stem cell therapy will work for sure, but it's been a week since my first injection and I'm noticing a difference, so that's a really good sign.

What I'm breathing right now is warm and sweet. I hear it sizzle and pop and I make sure to breathe in as much as possible to savor it. I sit up in bed just enough to see her standing in her PJ pants making pancakes. She hears me and turns around.

"Good morning, ma cherie."

"What are you making?"

"Why don't you get out of bed and come see?"

I wrap myself in a blanket and patter across the floor where I nuzzle myself into her back as she flips a pancake onto a plate.

"Are you cold?"

I nod into her.

"Here. This should help." She hands me some coffee and a full plate. I walk over to the couch and wait for her to come eat with me.

She brings over syrup and places a kiss on the top of my head before she sits down. I smile at her.

"Aren't you going to eat? Are you not feeling very good?"

"I'm fine, Delphine," I whine. She asks me this every single day and every single day I don't want to talk about it.

"I'm just cold and I don't want to unwrap my arms to eat."

I give her my best puppy dog eyes and she chuckles over her coffee.

"You Americans are so lazy."

"Please, Delphine?"

"Ok fine. Open up."

I smile and open my mouth as wide as possible as she brings a forkful to my lips.

After breakfast, I convince her to come back to bed. I snuggle against her chest and she wraps her arms around me. I breathe the smell of her soap mixed with pancake syrup and I forget she is my moniter. I forget that I'm 324B21, that the next round of stem cells could prove useless, that Felix is in jail, Sarah is always in trouble, Kira is god-knows where, and that none of this will end soon.

I let my face bury into her breasts, my hands travel under her shirt and around her waist, my lips plant a light kiss on her chest through her shirt. I feel her stiffen and I worry I will cry in front of her. I don't want this again—I hate being treated this way.

"Please, Delphine."

"Cosima, you are not well. I don't want to tire you out."

"You won't! Please," I plead as I hold her closer. I feel her exhale.

"Ma cherie—"

"No." I feel myself getting upset. Why won't she make love with me anymore? Is it because of what I said? Is she just acting? I pull away and turn around as I feel the tears filling my eyes. I don't want her to see me cry.

I feel her hand on my back and I try my best to act like it's unwanted.

"Cosima—"

"Careful, you wouldn't want to hurt me."

She is quiet before she wraps her body around me and kisses my neck.

"I'm sorry. Forgive me?"

I don't answer her right away. I'm still mad.

"But why not? Why don't you want to be with me anymore?"

She turns me around to face her and brushes her hand against my cheek.

"Because I can't lose you, Cosima. I know you hate it but I feel the need to treat you with kid gloves. I don't think you understand how serious your illness is—even though this round of stem cells has helped, it doesn't mean the next one will. I want you strong so that your body can respond to the treatment in the best way possible."

I stare at through my glasses.

"I get it, Delphine. You think I don't, but I do. I get that this could kill me, that all of the treatment is experimental, that at any point my body could reject the stem cells, but right now—I'm fine. Last night was the first night I didn't wake up coughing—not even once. This morning I woke up and inhaled the smell of coffee and pancakes as deep as I could and nothing happened. Nothing—it was just these awesome, clear, deep breaths. It felt so good. I know that today is not tomorrow, but tomorrow I may wake up coughing and wheezing and not able to even get out of bed much less make love with you, so can we please just accept the coolness that my lungs are doing today and act like everything is normal? For once?"

I feel the tears spill on to my cheeks—I feel like such a fucking baby. I try to look away from her but she keeps my face still and leans down to kiss the streaks where my tears have been. I swallow hard and try to stop crying as she moves on top of me and takes my glasses off. I stare blankly up at her and then crack a smile. I forgot how good it felt to have her on top of me.


End file.
